


Sleepless Nights & Sweet Nothings

by shootingstarcipher



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Dark, Demon!Bill, Human!Bill, M/M, Masturbation, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootingstarcipher/pseuds/shootingstarcipher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When reality is invaded with creatures of indescribable yet undeniable horror and power that even Ford doesn’t know how to eliminate, the only one Dipper has to turn to for help is the very same demon that got him into that mess in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Whispers

It was meant to be over. Bill Cipher was dead, or at least gone. The only thing anyone was sure of was that he wasn’t coming back, and yet he kept turning up in Dipper’s dreams to haunt him and he couldn’t tell whether his own mind was dragging him back up again or if the demon was actually invading his dreams like he used to. He hoped it was the former. Ford promised him that it was.

He awoke as darkness fell, as he always had ever since he and the rest of his family had managed to bring the apocalypse to an end, and shook Mabel awake as well. She hated it and swiped at him in attempt to convince him to leave her alone for a few more minutes, but it was for her own good. For most of the town’s inhabitants, sleeping at the coming of dawn and waking at the fall of dusk was now the norm. It had started shortly after Bill Cipher’s defeat, when some of the residents began to notice worryingly strange happenings occurring only after sunset.

Ford had been amongst the first to notice. Dipper, Stan and Mabel had soon followed. They’d discussed their findings together as a family, during which Dipper had detected hints of anxiety in Ford’s otherwise calm composure, only serving to bring stress and nervousness to his own mind. Within only a couple of days, Ford had been able to explain what was going on - albeit not fully. He was aware of what was happening - that their world had been invaded by nightmarish creatures that took the form of shadows and stole the life from every living thing they touched - but not of the details surrounding the invasion. He was able to deduce that the invasion had begun as Weirdmaggedon came to a close, but not how the creatures had broken through to their world.

When people started noticing the shadows moving when they shouldn’t have been able to, Dipper spent days rifling through all three journals - or rather, the copies Grunkle Stan had created as opposed to the originals, as those had been turned to ashes during Weirdmaggedon - searching for any mention of creatures that took the form of darkness, but to no avail. Ford had never come across them before. Neither had anyone else they’d spoken to.

Ever since the realisation that the darkness now held a serious threat, everyone who lived in the quiet yet admittedly strange town of Gravity Falls had decided to become nocturnal: sleeping safely during the day and staying awake at night when they were able to protect themselves. It was tiresome and difficult to get used to, but as long as each of them kept a torch with them at all times, the system seemed to be working. 

At first, most of them had simply decided to sleep with the light on every night, thinking that the darkness wouldn’t be able to touch them. They were wrong. The shadows somehow managed to find ways of reaching them, because everything cast a shadow. That was why they’d had to resort to such unconventional and extreme means of keeping themselves safe.  
Nearly every night was the same. They couldn’t do the things they used to do, and leading normal lives was the last thing on Dipper’s mind at the time. Unlike Mabel, he wasn’t worried about their birthday or going back to school. He did, however, worry about going home. There was no telling how many of these so-called shadow demons had escaped into their world or how far spread out they were. They may have been contained by the same barrier that had kept Bill and his associates trapped inside Gravity Falls. On the other hand, they might have been able to take over numerous other towns already. It was all pure speculation.

With his torch in one hand, he grabbed Mabel by the wrist and dragged her downstairs in her half-comatose state. She, too, had a torch in her hand, but dropped it a few times on her way to the kitchen. The lights were all switched on but they still kept their torches close by as they ate, just in case. So far, Dipper had only needed to use it a handful of times. It didn’t seem as if the shadow demons - as they were being referred to - were particularly powerful, though they were certainly not to be ignored. Their danger was real. They had made that clear through the murder of several of the town’s residents.

Dipper had considered speaking to Bill about them during one of his dreams and he was thinking about it again as he ate his breakfast. He brought it up to Mabel, who immediately pointed out to him that Bill Cipher was probably dead. “He isn’t coming back,” she told him, her face breaking into a grin. “Ford said so.” He wanted to agree but every day he dreamed of him, a tiny bit of doubt leaked into his mind, eventually building up into the belief that Bill might still have been out there somewhere.

“But I keep dreaming about him,” he argued, hoping to convince at least one other person that the demon was still alive, even if not completely. “He might be able to help. If he knows about them…”

Mabel cut him off. “Dipper, Bill’s dead,” she repeated, rolling her eyes at him. “And anyway, even if he is still alive, do you really think he’d help us? We’re the ones that killed him! Or, I guess, not if he is alive, but we still tried to!” For once, Mabel was making a rational argument and her brother refused to agree with her in spite of the fact that it undeniably made sense. He wouldn’t help them, even if he could. But Dipper was determined to try.

Leaving half of his breakfast untouched, he pushed his chair back away from the table, muttered something about going to see Grunkle Ford, grabbed hold of his torch and walked off, heading in the direction of the basement. Before the arrival of the shadow demons, he’d never seen the basement so bright. Nowadays it was normal for the lights to all be switched on at once. Ford was working - as he always was - and sat at his desk with his head bent over one something as he studied it.

Knocking on the door as he opened it, Dipper let himself in. “Uh, Grunkle Ford,” he stammered, drawing his uncle’s attention. “I need to talk to you about Bill.” He gripped the torch in his hand tighter even though he hadn’t seen anything to suggest he might need it. It was just comforting. He knew Ford didn’t like speaking about the demon - he believed Bill was in the past and that he should stay that way, or at least he liked to believe it - but he couldn’t fight the feeling that he needed to be discussed.

“Come in and sit down,” Ford told him, sounding stern yet somehow simultaneously gentle. He pulled over a spare seat to his desk and Dipper sat down beside him, holding onto his torch with more force than ever. “You don’t need to worry about Bill anymore. I’ve told you - he’s gone. You saw it happen with your own eyes.”

Dipper nodded to show his understanding, but protested nonetheless. “But I keep seeing him in my dreams. I don’t think he’d really gone and anyway, I think he could help us.” His uncle frowned at him and he shied away from his discerning gaze. “If anyone knows what those creatures are, it’s Bill Cipher,” he insisted, though much quieter than before now that Ford’s disagreement was clear. “I could talk to him. He’s been coming to see me.”

“And I don’t suppose Mabel has seen him too, has she?” Dipper shook his head in reply. “He hasn’t been to see me either. And I don’t think he’s been to see you, Dipper, because he’s dead. He’s never coming to torment any of us ever again. Your mind is creating him in your sleep, probably because you’re spending so much time thinking about him during the day. Just forget about him.”

He’d tried. All Dipper really wanted to do was forget about Bill Cipher. But he’d already come to terms with the fact that it was never going to happen. Bill was a part of his life he’d never forget and possibly one that he needed to hold onto. He sighed, knowing that Ford wasn’t going to come around to his way of thinking at least until he had definitive proof of the demon’s continued existence, and returned to the kitchen where Mabel was still sitting. Grunkle Stan had joined her and the two of them were arguing over who should finish Dipper’s breakfast.

“He didn’t agree with you, did he?” Mabel asked, noticing the dejected look on her twin brother’s face. That was her mistake. Stan grabbed Dipper’s plate while he had the chance and slid its contents onto his own before placing it back down in front of Mabel and grinning mischievously at her. She groaned in response but otherwise ignored him.

“He didn’t even entertain the idea,” Dipper replied, shaking his head gloomily. “I’m going back upstairs. If anybody needs me, I’ll be…”

He was cut off by his sister’s incessant rambling. “You’ll be moping around in the attic while obsessively reading through every single page of each and every journal - especially Bill’s pages - and stopping every few seconds to make sure none of the shadows in the room are moving on their own.” Dipper groaned because she had his plan down to a tee, nodded and went back up to the attic.

But his plan didn’t go as well as he’d hoped. The moment he started to read through his copies of the journals, a quiet little whisper coming from inside his own head interrupted him. He couldn’t hear what it said, or even if it was speaking in a language he understood, but it was enough to both distract and intrigue him. But he eventually managed to disregard it as nothing but a trick of the mind and he glanced around the room - with one had gripping his torch tightly - before continuing reading through the pages he had laid out on his bed.

“Don’t ignore me, Pine Tree.” This time the whisper inside his mind was much clearer. And it was obvious who it was. There was only one being that used that particular name - one Ford had assured him was gone forever. “Ignore that uncle of yours, not me.”

“Bill?” He said it out loud, only half-hoping for a response. Although he’d been eager for proof of Bill’s existence and hopeful that the demon would be able (and willing) to help them combat the monsters that now ruled the shadows, the sound of Bill’s voice was bring his feelings of fear and dread and despair flooding back - and even a hint of hatred.

“You know it’s me, kid. You’re the only one who knows I’m still here. Nobody else believes.” He sounded almost sad when he said that, but Dipper ignored it and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand: whether or not to ask Bill for help. “I’m inside your head, remember, Pine Tree? And you know what that means. I’m reading your thoughts this very second,” the demon reminded him and he cursed his own stupidity.

He didn’t quite know what to do. But he knew Bill was aware of his distress and confusion, what with existing inside his mind at the time, and so he needed to make a decision immediately. Taking a deep breath, he spoke up again, breaking the silence the demon had left him with. “How did you survive?” They both knew this wasn’t what he really wanted to talk about and Bill appeared to have no intention to humour him.

“That’s not what you wanted to ask and you know it. Go on then kid, ask about the uh, shadow demons… as you call them,” he laughed. “Good name, I must admit.”

Dipper scowled and glanced around at the darker areas of the room to check for any signs of the dangerous, darkness-inhabiting creatures before responding. “Fine. Can you help? Do you know about them?”

That set Bill off laughing at him again. “Of course I do. But you know me, Pine Tree - I’ll never do anything without getting something in return.” This was something Dipper hadn’t yet considered: even if the demon could help him and was willing to do so, he never did anything for free. He asked what he wanted in return and the only response he received was that he’d have to think about it. “I’ll meet you later in the dreamscape. Bye for now, kid!”

Then he was gone. Occasionally, afterwards, Dipper tried to speak with him again but no-one replied. It made him feel oddly lonely. Mabel had Stan to talk to, neither Soos nor Wendy was around and Ford was being unusually cold to him probably due to a combination of stress and frustration about him repeatedly mentioning Bill Cipher. He longed to leave the Mystery Shack but the outside world was too dangerous now. Becoming nocturnal had been a stupid idea, he thought, because the shadow demons ruled the night and would kill whoever dared leave the comfort of their own home after dark. Still, they’d slip into their homes and murder them in their sleep if they slept during the night.

And so instead of foolishly leaving the Mystery Shack, he stayed indoors and carried on reading his copies of the journals, hoping to find something new. Unsurprisingly, nothing struck him as particularly important and he tidied up the papers scattered over his bed feeling isolated and disappointed. Mabel came up the stairs and interrupted him, distracting him from his loneliness for a while.

“Missing Wendy?” she asked, shining her torch at a shadow that hadn’t even moved and grinning. Her brother rolled his eyes but smiled, glad that at least one of them was enjoying themselves. He had a lot to think about and it was taking his concentration away from protecting himself and Mabel from the shadows, so it was a good job she was happy to stay on top of things for the both of them. He nodded in reply and groaned, though he hadn’t been thinking about Wendy for the past few days because he was so focused on Bill.

Mabel stayed with him for a few hours and kept him company, although the two of them barely said anything to one another. He kept quiet about Bill, wanting to have more information before he mentioned him to anyone again, though a tiny voice at the back of his mind - that wasn’t Bill this time - suggested he should tell Ford about their encounter. He shook his head, trying to free himself from those thoughts and glanced up at the triangular window between his and Mabel’s bed. It was nearly sunrise.

He sighed dejectedly. The nights were so short because of the season and he had to spend all his time cooped up inside. Only Stan went outside now and that was only once a week to find food. The shops were all closed and so was the Mystery Shack, which meant that Soos and Wendy had no reason to be there, hence he hadn’t seen either of them since Weirdmaggedon. This was no life. This was simply an existence - and not a very good one at that.

He was beginning to think that this must have been what life was like for Ford during the thirty years he was stuck in between worlds in the portal, but then he changed his mind when a whisper told him that this was what it was like for Bill.


	2. Love Me

Just as he’d said he would, Bill met with him in the dreamscape. The familiarity of feeling his mind being invaded once again was strangely soothing. It was difficult to tell they were in the dreamscape, however, seeing as they were inside the attic of the Mystery Shack and nothing particularly unusual was going on, though a couple of things did stand out. Firstly, Mabel wasn’t in her bed and secondly, the room was dark and one glance out of the window showed it was before sunrise, the sky being a vast expanse of black littered with tiny silver stars.

Dipper was lying in bed and gazing out of the window to study the darkened sky, drinking in the beauty and wishing he could do the same every night instead of fearing for his life, when the demon appeared at the foot of his bed. When the sound of the demon’s voice alerted him to his presence, he twisted round to face him. He didn’t know whether to smile or cry. Bill seemed to be who he needed at that moment, but that didn’t feel right. The Bill Cipher he knew and despised was dangerous and untrustworthy. Believing he would be the answer to his problems could - and probably would - prove to be a fatal mistake, but he didn’t feel he had a choice.

“Having second thoughts, Pine Tree?” the demon teased, his eye glowing with mischief. Dipper shook his head but his trembling body and vacant gaze betrayed him. “You know you need me, kid. I’m your only hope. You said that yourself - well, you thought it.” He was right. Dipper couldn’t argue back because everything he was saying was true.

“Fine,” he growled softly, unsure of whether to be grateful for the demon’s help or not. “Just tell me what you want.” He bowed his head - hoping Bill wouldn’t take it as a sign of respect - and scowled down at his mattress.

He heard the demon chuckle in cruel delight at his distress and confusion and he glared up at him angrily. “Oh kid, what I really want is for you to love me. Can you do that for me, Pine Tree?” Dipper’s anger suddenly melted back into perplexity but his glare still intensified, aware that the demon knew full well what he was doing to him. Messing with his emotions seemed to Bill’s favourite pastime. “I know, I know. But you can’t hate me that much. If you did, I wouldn’t be here.” He paused for a moment before his voice echoed off the walls again. “Just try for me, kid. Just try.”

At first he thought he was joking and he scoffed at his request in response, but then a blue flame manifested in the demon’s left palm and he realised he was being serious. He considered it only for a second before deciding that if he didn’t do this, he’d be damning himself and those he cared about to a fearful life with dark, all-consuming shadows cast over it - a life that was really just an existence. He couldn’t do that to Mabel, or Wendy, or anyone else he cared for. And so he stood up slowly from his bed, took a few tiny steps towards the demon and - with a heavy heart - he shook his hand, ignoring the burst of pain that came with forcing his hand through a fiery torrent.

He would try. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to make himself love the demon - it was difficult to find a reason to even like him - but he would try, not for Bill, but for everyone whose lives depended on it.

The last thing he heard was Bill’s laughter - not cruel, not malicious, but genuine laughter at something other than another’s pain and suffering. And when he woke up again he wasn’t screaming or sweating or frightened at all. Everything seemed alarmingly peaceful. It wasn’t right. Sunlight shone through the window, disrupting his vision, and he turned to smile at the sight of it, knowing his chances of seeing it again would be few and far between. He wished he could do the same every day. Occasionally - having not yet gotten used to sleeping all through the day - he woke up early afternoon and enjoyed a few short hours of sunlight, but he wouldn’t be able to do that for long. The thought made him hate what his life was becoming.

He wondered where Bill had gone and how exactly he was going to help. Or even if he could help. Or even if he really had any intention of trying. Perhaps it depended on how well Dipper held up his end of the deal. That wouldn’t have surprised him. It always seemed to be all about Bill.

Groaning, he pushed back the blanket, stood up and stretched his legs. Sleeping so much was making him tired even when he was meant to be wide awake and it was making his muscles ache even when he hadn’t used them. A noise coming from downstairs made his ears prick up and his body stiffen in sudden panic. The sound of a kitchen drawer slamming shut. It could have been Stan or Ford and the realisation of this allowed him to relax slightly, but the footsteps that followed were quieter than either of his uncles’.  
Hesitantly, he grabbed hold of the torch he kept by his bed and crept down the stairs. Whoever it was - or whatever it was - they were still in the kitchen, and as he cautiously approached the door the sound of someone rifling through the kitchen drawers grew louder. The harsh metallic screeches of knife blades scraping against forks were enough to make his ears bleed. Before he set foot in the kitchen, whoever it was seemed to be aware of his presence and addressed him. The moment they spoke, he knew exactly who had invaded the Mystery Shack.

“Miss me, Pine Tree?” A fair-skinned, blond boy just a few inches taller than he was appeared in the doorway, his long thin fingers gripping the wooden handle of a kitchen knife. His clothes were smart and elegant but old-fashioned. His eyes were the strange yet captivating colour of pure gold, though one was completely hidden away by his wavy blond hair. The tip of the knife was dowsed in thick, red blood and that’s when Dipper noticed the gash on the boy’s right hand. He was too stunned to react quickly and the boy was clearly getting bored with him. “Are you just gonna stand there all day, kid?” he snapped, bringing the knife up to study it and licking his lips.

“Bill?” He couldn’t help his confusion, though the boy chastised him for it. “Is it really you?”

The blond boy rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s me, kid. Who else would ever dare use that nickname?”

Dipper didn’t have an answer for that so kept his mouth shut. As he lowered his gaze and scanned the demon’s humanoid body, he saw the blood from his hand dripping onto the floor and his heart slammed inside his chest for more reason than one. Firstly, because of his family’s reaction if they found bloodstains all over the house. The other reason was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t understand the way he felt about it and he wasn’t sure he wanted to - besides, there were so many things he didn’t understand, so what was one more?

Pushing his confusion aside, he marched into the kitchen and grabbed a cloth from under the sink, turned the tap on and dampened it. Bill followed him aimlessly, his new body swaying slightly as he struggled to control it, and sat down on one of the wooden chairs to keep himself from falling over. He was about to ask how humans managed to move about so easily when Dipper suddenly kneeled on the floor in front of him and grabbed his injured hand, the feel of his soft skin taking him by surprise. He glared at him when he started cleaning the cut on his hand and told him to stop because he liked it the way it was, but the human was having none of it.

“You’re getting blood all over the floor,” Dipper pointed out, taking the knife out of his other hand and wiping the blood off that as well. Then he moved onto the floor and the demon watched him closely, studying the human’s every move. Once he was finished, he ran the cloth under the tap to rinse the blood off but failed to get every drop out of the fabric, leaving it with a reddish tinge. He sniffed at it indignantly, but it would have to do.

He turned back to Bill and found that he was being stared at. An almost evil grin was carved into the demon’s otherwise handsome face and his golden irises seemed to be lit up with delight. Approaching him more carefully than he had done before, Dipper sat down in the chair opposite him, unnerved by the way the demon’s gaze followed him across the room.

He didn’t know what was going on and he didn’t like it at all. Bill didn’t need a physical form to help rid the world of the monsters that had invaded it, and even if he did, why not just use his again? He would have agreed to it if he was sure it was necessary. And that begged the question: whose body was he using?

It became clear a few seconds after he’d asked himself the question that Bill had retained the powers he usually had when possessing the body he was now using. “It’s my body, kid. Can’t tell you the details - client confidentiality and all that - but it is mine. I had it made.” He leaned back in his seat, smirking, and snatched the knife up from the table to inspect it. After twirling it in his hands for a minute or so, he pressed it against the palm of his hand and, realising he was about to make another cut, Dipper’s eyes widened in alarm, the look in his eyes causing the demon to stop and study his face.

With a heavy, somewhat agitated sigh, Bill put the knife back down but kept his gaze fixed on it, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip again. “Listen Pine Tree, I’m going to need a place to stay while I’m here…” He didn’t get to finish.

“But you don’t need to be here,” Dipper interrupted him. The flash of anger that crossed the demon’s face made him instantly regret it.

“Yes, I do,” Bill asserted. “You wouldn’t understand, Pine Tree.” He stood up from his seat and staggered over to the door, leaving Dipper to trail after him. He followed him up the stairs to the attic and finally found him perched on the edge of his bed, flicking through the copies of his uncle’s journals he’d kept. His initial reaction was to lunge at him and the papers from him, but he convinced himself not to make such rash, careless decisions without thinking them through virtually instantaneously. He needed Bill to be on his side and wrestling him to the ground was not the way to do that.

Dropping the papers onto the floor, causing them to scatter everywhere, the demon lay back on the bed and sighed dismissively. Dipper glanced nervously at the window and stifled a yawn. He was tired, but how could he sleep with a demon in his room? And what’s more, with a demon on his bed?

Bill must have been reading his mind a grin. With a wicked grin etched into his face, he slipped out of the bed and gestured for Dipper to climb back into it. Leaving his suspicions behind, Dipper returned to his bed - sent a worried glance in his sister’s direction - and pulled the blanket over him. Just as he settled down, a knock on the front door of the Mystery Shack startled him.

The grin vanished from Bill’s face and he murmured something incoherent under her breath. “That’d be Red,” he muttered when they heard the knock again.

Throwing himself out of bed, Dipper ran passed him and rushed down the stairs, heading in the direction of the front door. They didn’t get visitors anymore and it had been too long since he’d seen any of his friends, especially Wendy. He wasn’t about to ignore her and make her think she’d been forgotten. But as he stepped into the hallway, the demon appeared in front of him, blocking the door.

“Forget about her!” he snarled, pressing his back against the door and spreading out his arms to stop Dipper from getting passed him. “She’s not important. You’re supposed to love me, remember? Not her!”

Stopping in his tracks, Dipper gritted his teeth and glared at him. He’d known Bill to be selfish, but so selfish as to lock Wendy outside, presumably to wait for her death? The shadow demons wouldn’t come until sundown, but that was just a few hours away and if she didn’t get inside by then, her death would be almost certain. Bill knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing. He always did. During the time he was thinking, Bill stopped snarling. His face was now blank.

“Sorry,” he muttered reluctantly. “I guess this isn’t the way to get you to stop hating me, is it?” Dipper shook his head, agreeing with him. The demon hesitantly stepped aside, allowing Dipper to open the door and let Wendy in.

She grinned at him as she walked in, asking what took him so long only half-jokingly, but her smile faded when she set eyes on Dipper’s companion, who was scowling at her from across the hall. He mumbled something about going back upstairs and returned to the attic, leaving her and Dipper alone in the corridor. When he asked why she was there, she explained that she’d gotten tired of not being able to see her friends and was getting cabin fever from being cooped up inside all the time. They talked for a little while in the living room, and during their conversation he kept quiet about Bill, before they both decided to go back to sleep. Wendy curled up in Stan’s armchair - as Dipper suggested to her - while he went upstairs to the attic, only to find Bill sitting on his bed again, cross-legged and facing the door this time.

He moved again to let Dipper lay down with the blanket over him, but then slid in beside him, pulling the blanket over both of them. Frowning, Dipper rolled over to face the wall - turning his back on Bill - but the demon just smirked and wrapped his arm around his waist, shuffling closer. “I need to sleep too, don’t I?” he asked, though Dipper suspected he already knew the answer; he nodded in reply anyway. Dipper wasn’t happy with how little help the demon had been so far. He hadn’t even mentioned the monsters that had invaded his world, let alone done anything to get rid of them. Bill didn’t seem concerned about them at all.

Clutching his pillow with one hand and his trusty torch with the other, Dipper closed his eyes, preparing to allow sleep to claim him. But he jerked awake when he suddenly felt Bill’s hot breath ghosting across the side of his neck and sat up, only to be pushed down again by the demon. “Hey kid, you love me yet?” he whispered in his ear. Shivering in response, Dipper moved away from him, crawling towards the wall beside the bed.

Even as they slept, the smirk didn’t leave the demon’s face.


	3. Warpath

Waking up after the kind of dream he’d just undergone was never enjoyable, but waking up after a dream like that with Bill Cipher - who’d probably seen everything, even in his sleep - lying right next to him with one arm snaked around his waist, crushing him to his side, was even worse. Blinking his eyes open slowly, unwilling to leave the comfort of his dream, he groaned inwardly at the tight, knotted feeling in his stomach and forced himself to sit up in his bed, rubbing his eyes and desperately wishing the light would stop hurting them.

Then everything seemed to hit him at once and it felt like he was watching his world fall apart all over again.

They’d lost their right to sleep peacefully during the night; their lives were condemned to exist only inside their own homes at night with all their lights on, and they needed to wield torches as weapons to survive. Wendy Corduroy was downstairs in the Mystery Shack and after the dream he’d just had about her, he had no intention of facing her just yet. Mabel was in her own bed (still fast asleep despite it clearly being night time already) and Grunkle Stan was probably still in his. And finally, Bill Cipher was sleeping next to him - and he was human (or at least in human form, as he had been when he’d woken him up in the middle of the day a few hours beforehand).

As it turned out, Bill may not have actually been asleep. Dipper had shrugged his hand away from him when he sat up but now he could feel it creeping towards him again, eventually taking hold of his arm. Bill’s other hand reached out and grabbed at him as well, pulling his arm towards him and hugging it to his chest. Dipper instinctively ripped his arm away, pressing himself against the wall beside him so that he was far away from the demon as the restrictive space of the bed would allow.

He glanced at his sister, still trapped in a deep slumber, and then at Bill, who now had an irritatingly knowing smirk plastered on his face. He had one hand on the torch he used to keep away the shadows that were able to move on their own but his mind was more interested in something else. His dream had left him in a tormenting state of discomfort but he was sure he’d disturb the supposedly sleeping demon beside him if he tried to sneak out to the bathroom as he usually did in these situations, so he stayed where he was, unmoving but grimacing in frustration and embarrassment.

It only got worse when Bill decided to make his consciousness known. He suddenly turned his head, startling the young brunet, and looked up at him with a grin. “That was some dream, Pine Tree,” he commented, clearly amused. His eyes shone with something Dipper couldn’t put his finger on; he wasn’t even certain he wanted to understand what it was. He winced at the mention of his dream, knowing that it meant the demon was completely aware of it and its contents, and avoided eye contact, hoping he’d go away and leave him in peace. “You’d probably better get to the bathroom soon, kid. You’re not going to do anything here, with your sister sleeping over there.” The demon jerked a thumb in Mabel’s direction, glancing at her momentarily while Dipper stared at him in stunned silence. “Go!” he practically yelled when the brunet failed to get up.

Mabel stirred in her sleep but her eyes remained firmly shut, her face a picture of tranquility in spite of the gravity of their situation. As he crawled out of the bed and walked passed hers, torch in hand and ready to aim it at any patch of darkness that moved, Dipper smiled to himself at the thought that Mabel was still her happy, carefree self. That meant the monsters hadn’t won. Perhaps they’d beaten him, but his sister was still standing strong and that’s what mattered.

Down the stairs, across the hallway and the floorboard creaked. He looked down, realising the sound had come from behind him. Swiveling round, the arm holding the torch raised, his finger on the button as he prepared to switch it on, he saw nothing. Not a shadow, but not a person either. He shrugged it off and turned back. It was an old, rickety building. Strange things happened, and not all of them related to monsters or creatures of the night. The bathroom was in sight and he carried on creeping towards it, moving as quickly as he could without making a sound.

When he reached the bathroom door he hesitated, re-thinking what he was doing. His discomfort would pass in a short while and he didn’t like the idea of leaving his sister alone with Bill. Luckily he didn’t have to worry about that. He stepped into the bathroom and turned to close the door behind him, only to find a foot jammed between the door and the doorframe. Lifting his head up, he found himself staring into the hazy golden orbs of Bill Cipher, who stood there gazing at him with a grin on his face.

“I figured you wouldn’t want me hanging around Shooting Star on my own,” he explained, pushing passed him and marching into the bathroom were he perched on the edge of the bath, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “You’re very protective of her.” Dipper closed the door behind him, not because he intended on letting the demon stay, but because it would minimise the size of the area he needed to keep an eye on. “Oh, I’m not leaving,” Bill insisted with a yawn. Dipper muscles tensed and he stood still, his gaze fixed on the demon. “What?” Bill snapped in response to his anxiety. “Mind if I watch?”

“No!” Dipper roared at him, narrowing his eyes when the blond’s grin widened. “I mean, you can’t! You have to be out there in case one of those demons is there!” He threw his arm in the direction of the door but his outburst seemed to have no impact on the demon at all. “You are meant to be getting rid of those monsters.” Dipper’s voice was surprisingly stern, shocking them both but still not enough to wipe the smirk off Bill’s face.

In fact, he smirked even more and pointed to the space behind the brunet. “You mean like that one, right there?” he beamed, prompting Dipper to whirl round with his torch pointed straight at the monster he had failed to spot slip through the crack underneath the door. It was gone in a matter of seconds. He’d only just slammed his thumb down on the button to switch the torch on, expecting it to take a few minutes before the creature left. He’d encountered several since the beginning of the invasion and each time they seemed to take longer to disappear, as if they were growing stronger day by day - or night by night, as the case may have been. And yet after basking in the scorching light for a three, maybe four or five seconds, the blurry figure vanished from sight, leaving behind no trace of its existence.

The sudden difference in behaviour was unsettling, but then it hit him. Maybe Bill had been doing something useful after all.

Bill was staring at him. He could feel the demon’s eyes boring holes in the back of his head and when he spun round he found that they were no longer on opposite sides of the room from each other, that Bill had stood up and moved to stand just a few inches away from him. He was nodding his head, with his lips still curled into that sickening smirk, and it took Dipper a moment to realise what he was nodding in answer to. So that was it. He had been doing something.

“It left because I told it to,” he said nonchalantly, as if it was something everyone else should have already thought of. “That won’t work for long though,” he warned. “They’re getting stronger every night.”

Dipper momentarily congratulated himself for getting that part right, but then immediately realised it was nothing to be proud of and that it only meant more trouble for him and the rest of humanity. By this time his discomfort had faded and he had more urgent matters to focus on, such as the fact that Bill had actually been useful for once. Bill pointed out that he’d, to use his own words “just saved his life”, but Dipper disagreed and said that he could have handled it on his own, if only he’d been given the chance. Bill just laughed at that and dragged him out into the corridor, suggesting he went and woke Mabel up because if a shadow demon had managed to get into the bathroom without anyone knowing, then one could have easily sneaked into the attic and killed Mabel in her sleep already.

And one of them would have if it hadn’t been for Grunkle Stan. 

Dipper was impressed. He hadn’t even expected Stan to be up by then. On the other hand, Stan was less impressed with his lack of regard for his sister’s wellbeing. “She could have died!” he kept yelling, and Mabel wasn’t any better with her constant whining that Dipper should have been looking after her like he usually did. Rushing to defend him, Bill sidestepped into view beside Dipper, who quickly pushed him away again, unwilling to involve the demon in their family discussion.

Unfortunately, Stan’s sharp eyes caught sight of the stranger in his home the second a strand of blond hair stuck out from behind the wall and he narrowed his eyes, raising a concerned yet stern eyebrow at his nephew. “Dipper, who is this?” he asked gruffly, poking his head round the doorframe to get a better look at the blond stranger.

Dipper’s breath caught in the back of his throat and his mouth suddenly ran dry. Bill, on the other hand, was perfectly confident and even stepped forward daringly, challenging the older man with a glare. “I’m your worst nightmare,” he retorted, his gaze flickering over to Mabel. “And I’m your only hope.”

Once again, Dipper instinctively pushed him away, and hissed at him to leave them alone for a while. Bill reluctantly agreed and turned his back on him, walking away with every intention of sabotaging the brunet’s ambiguous relationship with the girl he liked to call “Red.” At that moment, as he strode into the living room where Wendy Corduroy was sitting up in Stan’s armchair, eyes glued to the TV, there was only one thing on his mind: until Red was out of the way, Dipper would never even try to replace her with him.

She didn’t notice him as he marched in, but she should have. And she should have feared the worst. Because Bill Cipher was on a warpath and she was in his way.


	4. Monster

Well, he was on a warpath until he marched over to her and she looked up, locking eyes with him. After a brief moment, her face broke out into a smile and she pointed out that he must have been very close to Dipper, because he had been welcomed into the Mystery Shack even before she had. He paused to consider her words and, realising that Dipper had been unable to think of much but him almost since his attempt to take over the world had failed (and that he’d barely even thought of Wendy until she came running to him), he decided to retreat and let her live. Maybe she’d even be useful to him - possibly, though he didn’t yet know how.

Knowing that Dipper didn’t want him to interrupt his discussion with his family - and that failing to obey would set his plan to replace the redhead as the object of his affections by quite a while - he sat down on the floor to the side of Wendy’s chair (which was actually Stan’s chair and he wasn’t going to be very happy to find somebody else sat in it) and stared straight in front of him, his gaze settling on the television screen. This was the first time he’d ever experienced using one first-hand, though at any given time he’d observed countless humans watching them mindlessly. And now that he’d finally come across one for himself, he completely understood why (although he didn’t necessarily understand what was really going on in the program he was watching). The colours, the sounds, the motion… It was mesmerising.

He and Wendy sat in silence until Dipper eventually strode into the room, an anxious-looking Mabel and a stern-looking Stan traipsing in behind him. The movement to the left of him distracting him, Bill jumped to his feet and moved to stand by Dipper’s side, though he made sure to stay in between him and Wendy. He was already aware of what had been said between the three of them whilst he’d been out of the room; he’d heard it while they were speaking amongst themselves. It just went to confirm what Wendy had said: he must have been close to Dipper because he was the only one who had defended him. Upon learning of his identity, Stan had demanded that he be thrown out of the house and Mabel had accused her brother of being insane to even interact with him. Even now, they were glaring at him coldly whereas Dipper was looking at him with a sympathetic look on his face.

Bill was about to say something to him - to thank him for not hating him quite as much as everyone else did - but then a rough hand grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him across the living room floor. He didn’t protest. Earning the family’s trust unfortunately meant cooperating with them, and he’d need them to trust him if he was ever going to get Dipper to really care about him.

Stan didn’t let go of him until he’d dragged him down a set of steps and into the basement, where he knew Ford would be. “Take him,” he grunted, forcefully shoving the blond towards his twin brother so that his back crashed into Ford’s chest. “You know how to deal with him. You’ve done it before.” Then he turned on his heel and vanished through the door, leaving Bill to turn around and grin devilishly at Ford, the look of sudden realisation on the elder’s face amusing him.

“Bill Cipher?” Ford asked after studying his face for a moment or so, though it was really more of a statement. It wasn’t that he didn’t know who he was, but that he simply didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. He’d erased Bill Cipher from existence weeks ago. Whoever was standing before him now could not be Bill Cipher, except that he was. It should have been impossible, but it clearly wasn’t. “It can’t be you,” he stated, his voice tinted with disbelief. “You’re dead.”

“Well then,” Bill laughed at him, turning towards the door. “If I’m dead, Six Fingers, I suppose it doesn’t matter that I have some business with Pine Tree to attend to. I’ll be off then.” He started towards the stairs but was caught by the arm before he managed to reach them and pulled back, spinning round to grin wildly at Ford again, his visible golden eye alight with malice. “He’s the one who wanted to see me,” he shrugged casually, half-heartedly explaining why he was there. “And you know, I really think he’s falling for me.” Ford took it as a joke but branded him insane for even making light of the idea, whilst Bill privately thought otherwise. It was merely wishful thinking, of course, but secretly he thought there was some truth to it. Dipper wouldn’t have been so defensive of him otherwise.

Ford’s already cold glare hardened and he let go of the blond’s shoulder - but not before harshly digging his nails into his flesh, letting him know he wasn’t welcome. “Dipper hates you just as much as I do,” he snapped, but only succeeded in eliciting a shrill, mocking chuckle. He sighed in response. This was just like Bill - to laugh at anything and everything, no matter how serious and unfunny it was, especially if it caused other beings to suffer through pain and anguish. “No-one wants you here, Cipher. We’ve defeated you before; we’ll do it again!”

Everything he said resulted in the demon laughing even harder at him and eventually Bill interrupted him because he wasn’t sure how much more laughing his human body could take. “Yeah, right, if you defeated me” - he drew quotation marks in the air with his fingers as he spoke - “then tell me, how exactly am I still here? (Or rather, how am I here again?) And, you should note, in a human body I did not have to, er… acquire through underhand means.” Ford didn’t have an answer to that and the look of confusion on his face nearly set the blond off laughing again; in fact, he only just managed to reign himself in.

There were a few reasons why Ford was still alive when left the basement, one of which was that killing him would have diminished the progress he had made with Dipper. Then there was the fact that the entertainment that came with watching the old man struggle to explain the impossible - that after supposedly being wiped from existence, he had been able to survive and return to the world he had previously tried to take over and of course, the complexity of his and Dipper’s relationship - was practically irreplaceable. There weren’t many other humans - or beings, for that matter - that could provide him with such amusement. But the main reason was that Dipper himself walked in and asked to see him alone, and while Ford would have argued with Bill if he’d been the one to initiate it, he trusted in his nephew’s judgement and kept quiet, though it was clear he wasn’t thrilled to see him so close to the demon.

“Be careful,” he warned as his nephew put his hand on the door, about to close it behind him. “That boy is a monster.” The door slammed shut and Ford was suddenly alone, his nephew and the demon on the other side of the door.

Instead of returning to the living room, where Wendy and everyone else was gathered, Dipper went straight back up to the attic with the demon in tow. Once there, he perched on the edge of his bed, fingers anxiously gripping the torch in his hand, and Bill sat down beside him. He felt like the torch was utterly useless now. It hadn’t been what had saved him in his most recent - and most life-threatening - encounter with the shadow demons and he wondered whether it would ever be of any use to him again. At least now he knew Bill was actually doing something to help, but that wasn’t enough. He needed to know more.

But when he started to ask about the elusive creatures the demon suddenly went quiet, seeming unwilling to speak about them. And so Dipper reluctantly decided to plead with him, explaining that he wouldn’t be able to relax without knowing what they were and how they could be stopped. As well as that, he thanked him for earlier, because although he hadn’t wanted the blond to follow him into the bathroom - particularly in such a delicate situation - he probably would never have walked out of there alive if hadn’t been for him.

Presumably to welcome his thanks, Bill put his hand on his head - knocking off his cap - and ruffled his hair, only serving to irritate him. “It’s what I’m here for, kid. Still,” he added with a sly smirk, glancing at him sideways on. “I never got to watch you.”

It took a short while for Dipper to realise what he meant, but when it finally dawned on him he blushed and lowered his head, eyes automatically scanning the floor for any moving shadows. He found none. “Well I’m not doing that now,” he muttered, earning a disappointed whimper. “And even if I was,” he added, slightly more forcefully. “You wouldn’t get to watch.”

“Fine,” the demon grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “Another time then.” 

Dipper stayed quiet for a moment, but then curiosity took over and he had to ask why he had to ask why exactly he wanted to watch, though he was cautious to ask considering he wasn’t sure whether the response he’d get would be unsettling or not. Thankfully, it wasn’t.

“Don’t worry, Pine Tree,” the demon replied, moving to drape his arm around the brunet’s shoulders. “I’m just interested. It’s not like I haven’t seen you do it before, but I want to know what it’s really like.” He paused for a few seconds, thinking, before he spoke up again. “What does it feel like?”

That was the question Dipper had dreaded. It wasn’t something he could explain - or even wanted to explain - so he simply told him he’d have to try it for himself. Then he cut the conversation short and went back downstairs, leaving the demon to trail after him. But the living room door slammed shut before the blond could follow him inside and Dipper found himself trapped inside the room, face to face with the stern, concerned faces of his two great uncles, his twin sister and Wendy. He sighed heavily and glanced back at the door behind him, not liking the idea of leaving the demon on his own. Bill didn’t know how to behave. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find him dripping blood everywhere again the next time he saw him. But the looks on the others’ faces compelled him to stay; they looked worried, and he guessed they were worried about him.


	5. Windows

It took hours for the tension to die down and even then, as he lay in his bed with his trusty torch in his hand, a few traces of the tense feeling of conflict still lingered. Mabel hadn’t come to bed yet and he didn’t expect her to. She was probably going to spend the night downstairs with Wendy, who seemed to hate him just as much as everyone else did now. That was the worst possible outcome of Bill Cipher’s sudden re-appearance - Wendy turning her back on him. Even Ford and Mabel had lost faith in him and it was all Bill’s fault. Well, no, it was all his fault.

A part of him wished Bill had taken the same approach as Mabel and stayed downstairs, avoiding him like the plague (not that that would have gone down well with everybody else) but instead he’d done the opposite. He’d stayed with him ever since he’d left his tense discussion about him with everyone else. He’d stayed by his side as he ate, as he flicked through the pages of the journals and even now, as he tried to sleep, the demon was lying next to him, his gaze fixed on him. The warmth of his body was strangely comforting and he found himself closing his eyes, his grip on his torch relaxing as he slipped into a blissful state of unconsciousness.

At some point during the day as they slept, the blond rolled over onto his side and pressed his chest up against the younger’s back, pinning him to his body with his own and wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him in place. Dipper awoke to the sound of heavy breathing and to the feeling of more heat than the thin blanket covering their bodies could have possibly provided. Then, he realised a second later, there was something else. The demon was moving against him slowly, his grip on his body tightening with every moment that passed.

As realisation hit him, Dipper prised his hand off him and jerked away, scrambling to sit at the bottom of the bed and turning to stare at the demon, examining him carefully. With curiosity in his gaze, he crept closer to him - silently - and watched.

Bill’s hand had moved from where it had been laying limp across the pillow and was now grabbing at the lower parts of his body as he bucked into his palm. A gasp escaped his lips and Dipper instinctively moved back but still managed to keep quiet. After another moment or so of watching him, a breathy moan left his lips and Dipper’s trance was broken. He needed to do something: to either leave and let him wake up of his own accord or wake him up himself, right there and then and put a stop to what he was doing. 

But if he left the attic, where would he go? To breakfast, hoping no-one else would be there and pretend nothing had happened to ruin his relationship with them if they were? Waking him up would only prompt the demon to ask more questions about what he was feeling, and then there would be the issue of how he was going to rid himself of the tension - which Dipper had no desire to help him with.

That realisation was what decided it for him. Smoothing the blanket out and taking hold of the torch, he stood up from the bed and sneaked downstairs as quietly as he could, heading towards the kitchen. Thankfully, no-one else was there when he walked in. He sat down and poured himself a bowl of cereal, and it was at that moment that Wendy’s shadow was cast over him. Acting entirely on impulse, he snatched the torch up from the table, switched it on and aimed the beam of light directly at the shadow before he realised it was Wendy’s, at which point he set it down on the table again and switched it off, muttering a barely audible apology.

They hadn’t spoken since she’d accused him (albeit gently) of putting the monster that had already ruined their lives in so many ways before his friendship with her. The discussion she and his family had confronted him with the night before had broken his heart in a way that he didn’t think it could ever be repaired, not unless Bill proved himself useful to them. He’d told them of how he’d saved him but still they accused him of being deluded. Ford had called him a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome and even though Dipper had succeeded in convincing them all that the demon had to stay in order to prove his worth, he had failed in his attempt to repair his relationships with them.

He still had Bill, but that was all. And what was even more confusing than the breakdown of his other relationships was the nature of his relationship with the blond. They’d kissed, though that had been initiated by alcohol and so he had no idea how much control he’d had at the time or whether he’d even known what he was doing, and he was sure that if the situation arose again, he’d want to take it further this time. All that had been supposed to happen was that Bill would rid the world of the monsters that had been set loose and that would be the end of it. They’d never see each other ever again. But with the demon’s demand that he at least attempted to find some good in him, that he tried his hardest to show him love, it seemed like it was never going to be that simple.

As she sat down opposite him, picking up a spoon and getting started on her own bowl of cereal, Wendy’s face broke into a small, out of place smile. It wasn’t her smile. It was different, wrong and detached. But at least she was trying and, recognising that fact, he smiled back at her but immediately lowered his gaze to the table until her voice cut through the silence.

“We’re only looking out for you.” He looked up at her again when she spoke, cautiously, afraid that any wrong move would result in an outburst of hatred and disapproval even though he knew in his heart of hearts that Wendy didn’t really hate him - none of them did - but that they were concerned about the problems Bill could cause them. He was to blame for anything the demon did, after all. He was the one who’d convinced him to return to Gravity Falls and stay in the Mystery Shack with him. Anything that happened because Bill was there, would really have happened because Dipper had brought him back.

He simply nodded at her in reply. “Yeah, I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper and when she failed to respond he wondered whether she’d even heard him. After a while, his mind wandered and he wouldn’t have noticed if Wendy had started speaking to him again, having gotten lost in a trance revolving around Bill Cipher and what he was thinking.

He tried not to let himself think about what the blond was doing at that particular moment in time but the mental images invaded his thoughts anyway, no matter how hard he tried to block them out. He was probably still asleep, lying on the bed and rutting into his palm. As the memory grew stronger and more vivid and Dipper could feel himself sitting at the bottom of the bed, watching him, he choked on the mouthful of cereal he was crunching his way through and forced himself to swallow it, the sudden crush of reality tearing through his thoughts and dragging him out of his hypnotic state.

Pushing his half-empty bowl of cereal aside, he poured the rest of his milk down his throat and stood up from the table. As he turned away, he and Wendy shared a silent glance of recognition before he scrambled back up the stairs, a voice at the back of his mind warning him not to go up. He ignored it and carried on, only stopping when he found himself face to face with the blond who he’d assumed to still be asleep.

The demon was on his way downstairs when Dipper ran into him. Something was wrong and Dipper noticed immediately: that trademark smirk of his was missing from his face, the glimmer of mischief in his golden eye dulled. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but instead was suddenly grabbed by the arm and spun around, the blond pushing him down the wooden staircase and leading him into the bathroom which, by some miracle, was vacant.

He heard the water running before he saw it, having closed his eyes as he was pushed through the bathroom door with the demon’s hands at his sides. When he opened them and saw the blond locking the door, essentially preventing anyone else from interrupting them, his mouth fell open automatically as he tried to ask what he was doing but only succeeded in spluttering out incoherent nonsense. A hand suddenly clapped over his mouth, silencing him, and then he felt his clothes being tugged off him and he swatted the hand away, demanding to know what he thought he was doing.

Stopping what he was doing, Bill stood there in silence for a moment, as if he was deep in thought. “You know,” he muttered quietly and Dipper shook his head. No, he didn’t know and he told him that. “Not that,” the blond laughed, though his laughter was quieter than usual - stifled, even. “You saw. When I was still asleep, you saw me. You know.”

Dipper dropped his gaze to the tiled floor beneath his feet and mumbled a barely audible reply. “Oh, that. Right, I do know.” He hoped to God the demon wasn’t going to say anything else regarding what he’d seen earlier that morning but he knew in the back of his mind why he’d been brought into the bathroom. Why he was running a bath, however, was unfathomable.

But he didn’t find out why he was doing such a thing until later on, because as Bill was about to discover, locking the door couldn’t always prevent interruption.

It was Stan who interrupted them, pounding his fist against the door as the demon was instructing Dipper to lift up his arms so he could pull his shirt over his head more easily. 

Dipper, although confused and embarrassed, was about to do as he said when he heard his uncle banging on the door. Scowling, the blond waved a dismissive hand in the direction of the bath and the water stopped running. He opened the door to Stan with a sigh, grabbed Dipper by the hand and pulled him out of the room looking even more annoyed than before.

“Let’s get out of here,” he grumbled, heading towards the front door.

Through the window, Dipper could see the darkness consuming the town he’d grown to love. The outside world was quiet, still and immersed in shadows, the only light coming from the silver stars dotted about the black expanse of sky above. He would have given almost anything to be out there but feel safe at the same time, and suddenly, as if he were dreaming, he was.

But he didn’t feel safe. How could anyone - anyone who had gone through what he had - feel safe outside in the dark with monsters that lived and thrived in the darkness, disguised as shadows, with no-one to depend on but Bill Cipher? For a moment or two, he stood looking into the living room of the Mystery Shack through the window, but then Bill took him by the hand and - in spite of his protests - led him away. They walked off into the dark and not once did he look back at the Mystery Shack as they strode away because Bill’s voice was always there to remind him what they’d said, to remind him that they didn’t want either of them around and that he’d always be there to protect him even if his family wasn’t.

And for a while, Dipper believed him.


End file.
